I'm free on Thursday

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Hadi wasn't there on Friday, and upon seeing her waiting on the table for more than an hour, the stc supervisor finally thought to inform her that the senior batch was on its semester break.

Mirha then went to the library where sitting on the table at the corner and staring at the same page for almost an hour, she couldn't get even a single word into her head, lethargy eating her raw.

Back in her room, she simply lied on her stomach, unable to focus on anything. Her sister called, checking in, wondering if she was okay, Mirha lied and asked the same about everyone at home.
The three of them were going to school, leaving their uncle at home who just stared at the walls of his room, as if that would bring back the woman he'd spent fifty years with - the one and the only person he'd always called his family.
They worried for him, wondered if one of them should stay at home every day, but that meant skipping school. In turn, the three of them worried Mirha. It was simply too much sadness for her liking. Too much.

She hung up on his sister and burst into sobs, aware that she'd yet to go back to the work she'd started to dread.

---

On Wednesday he seemed to be in a hurry. Greeting her with a flat expression, he made no attempt to sit down and before Mirha herself could so much as have said hi, he spoke with a voice that gave her the impression of contempt.

"Semester changes, schedule changes. I'm free on Thursday at 10. And I'm not going to wait for more than five minutes, understood?"

Looking up at him, Mirha tried to think what could possibly be the reason for such behavior, the last person she expected indifference from when she could least bear it, but she could come up with nothing. "I have a class at 10 tom-"

"Well then I don't care." Hadi lashed out, growing impatient.

Mirha blinked, stunned.

He sighed grudgingly. "At three then?" His voice lowered a notch, but it didn't soften.

She lowered her head stiffly as a nod and managed through the growing lump in her throat. "Okay."

"Right." He said and turned around to leave.

"Hadi." In a weak voice, she called out desperately.

"I have a class, Mirha." He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes regarding her with cold indifference. "Give me enough credit that I still came to inform you and didn't keep you waiting."

He walked out of the class.

She blinked, and the tear hanging to her lashes dropped down to her cheek.

---

The box of sweets, wrapped in a glittering foil of sheet, rested in her bag tossing between the books as she walked to the elevator.

As the doors came to close, somebody stepped in making them slide back and then with an extra effort closed again.

"Hey." An all too familiar voice spoke up.

Mirha looked up from the text book she held in her hands, the title of which she'd been staring at, though blurred it had become. She offered a small smile in reply.

He moved a hand through his matted black hair and came to stand beside her, leaning back at the wall.
"Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't too polite yesterday."

Mirha shrugged. "It's okay. We all have our bad days."

Hadi didn't say anything and stared at the girl standing to his right. He felt an urge to bark out an incredulous laugh but it died down at the edge of his throat. She had caused in his mind a storm he hadn't been able to escape, a whirlwind of thoughts, a flurry of emotions. He didn't yet exactly know what to feel, he wasn't even sure what he was supposed to know, what he needed to confront, what he had to come to terms with. He hadn't yet found the way to escape.

He had been angry when Mirha didn't turn up on Wednesday the week before. It wasn't because she'd kept him waiting, rather because he was expecting to see her that day after an entire week, and she didn't show up, aware that he was going for a break of his own that would sum it up to two weeks of not seeing her. And he knew this, knew why he was angry, resulting in all that anger being dissolved into exasperation, wanting to know why? Why the fucking hell did he even care? Why the fucking hell was he even  looking forward to seeing her?!

As he'd walked out on her yesterday, it wasn't after seeing the hurt look cross her face. Though he told himself he didn't care, he did, and he knew. Her face perturbed him all day, following him like a ghost, nagging him to go and check up on her. Regret was there so was the anger and exasperation.

Hadi was aware he was an asshole, a dick towards people, but he didn't want to be one for Mirha. And that compelled Hadi Maher to apologize.

"Why weren't you there on Wednesday? I waited an hour." He said as they settled down on their table in the stc class.

"I was absent that day." She said quietly, opening the book in front of her.

"You're not allowed unless-"

Mirha looked up, her lips tugged into a faint smile. "My aunt died."

"Oh." That was all he could manage as he stared at her.

"Before you say sorry, it's okay, really. It wasn't exactly your fault, I mean, she had tb. Caught it from my father apparently, that got him a year and a half ago. Now the rest of us when so much as cough once, we all get afraid that it might be something. You know the coordinator told me I wouldn't be allowed to sit in the exam until I show her the death certificate." She shrugged.

Without thinking twice, he got up, came around the table and pulled the chair next to hers, turned it to face Mirha, and sat down. He opened his mouth but no words came out, he closed it again. Resting his arm on the back of Mirha's chair, he tapped his fingers against it.

"I don't - I don't really know what to say." He shook his head. "I-"

Mirha smiled. "It's okay. I'm fine now, really."

"No. I was a fucking idiot to have acted like a dick to you. I should have been able to see what you might be going through." Hadi knew he was the only one close to being a friend to her, knew that he was the only one she could talk to in college, he was her first in every way and yet he couldn't even be nice enough when she needed it most. It just increased his guilt, anger now directed at himself and maybe even exasperation still.

She scowled. "Not that word again."

He raised his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. And I feel like I'm saying that for the umpteenth time." She laughed, much to his surprise. "It's just, I forgive easily, and that goes in your advantage today."

Mirha was tougher than she looked, Hadi thought and smiled briefly. "Thank you. Are you okay though?"

"I am now." She said and added with a perk. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I brought you our village's famous sweet." She turned around and rummaged into her bag.

"Your aunt died Mirha and you brought me a gift. Seriously?"

"No." She said as she turned back and slid a box in his direction. "The day I was supposed to get back, she actually got better. We didn't know. I had already bought it and - it's okay if you don't want to eat it because it's old, I heard rich people don't-"

"You kidding? Sweets don't get old. I'll take it." He put a hand on the box and said, "Thank you. " Looking at her, Hadi was gripped by a sudden urge to hold her hand and maybe plant a soft kiss on her forehead, he could if she was some other girl. But she wasn't, and he couldn't risk burning her with his every touch, not when he didn't deserve her, not when she wasn't his to say.

Hadi didn't know, not being able to touch her was more a reason to aggravate him.

---

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